Boys and Toys
by Petra Todd
Summary: Molly figures Sherlock can't get into that much trouble while staying at her flat for a short while. He's there less than a week before he finds her toy collection. A prompt fill.


_This is a fill for a kinkmeme prompt about Sherlock finding Molly's toy collection while staying with her. Un-beta'ed and a quick post, so please forgive any errors that slipped through!  
_

_This is dedicated to SherlockWho22/lennajouisecoleman who wanted smut for her birthday. So she's getting it. :)_

* * *

Molly rushed home from Barts after a long evening shift that was mercifully quiet. There hadn't been any alarming texts from Sherlock, hiding in her flat for the last two weeks, but the worry was always there in the back of her mind. Every day when she hurried back to her flat after work, convinced she'd find him dead from a sniper's bullet, one last brutal gift from Jim Moriarty.

Instead she found something much worse.

"I do hope you're not going to make a fuss, Molly. I'm working on my travel arrangements for next week and I needed a few supplies. Mail-order takes too long and the local shop was closed by the time I popped over there. My research led me to believe you might have an item of medical-grade silicone, or a small pocket model." Unconcealed amusement laced Sherlock's rapid explanation. "I failed to deduce there would be such a wide variety available to experiment with. Are these _all_ in working order?"

Sherlock gestured to the shoebox in his lap, and Molly was forced to confirm her horrified suspicion: the detective was holding her box of toys normally stashed under the bed. Her mouth dropped open as Sherlock selected a purple waterproof vibrator from the pile. He fiddled with the bottom of it, twisting the base until the toy activated.

"I thought you might prefer the ones in the online catalogue that looks like fluffy animals, that seems more your style. I see I was wrong again," he said over the loud buzzing. "Smart, really. I can't imagine there's a benefit to having a vibrator with floppy bunny ears."

"Ears on the rabbit ones aren't floppy, Sherlock, those are for stimulating the cli-." Molly cut herself off. Her cheeks flushed and she marched over to the sofa to swipe the box and the buzzing vibe from his hands. "What are you doing? I can't stay home from work and watch you all day! It'll raise suspicions. And you can't just go through my personal belongings. I don't care how bored you are. You're supposed to be resting, and tracking down Moran and preparing, _not playing with my sex toys."_

Growing redder, she scrambled for the lid on the table and covered the box. In the weeks since he'd leapt from the roof of Barts, Molly had gotten better at telling him when he was violating her boundaries. She _had_ to, since it happened almost constantly. How had John lived with the man for two years and not throttled him? She was oddly grateful for her longtime crush on Sherlock at those times. The sight of him lounging on her sofa in nothing but a dressing gown was the only thing that kept her from tossing him out most days.

Well, that and the constant threat of death.

Sherlock looked up, frowning. "I am preparing. I need to smuggle some electronic items through airport security. There are several options, but size-wise, a personal pleasure device is ideal. Wiring and a battery power source are expected in a scan. Sex toys aren't scrutinized as much typically by the staff because they're aware the traveler is embarrassed." Sherlock's eyes skimmed her pink face, and he smirked.

"Well that's just silly," Molly retorted. She hurried into her bedroom and stuffed the box under her bed. "You have to move several things through security. How would you explain why you were carrying so many sex toys?"

He followed her into the bedroom and remarked, "Can you explain why y_ou_ own so many?"

Sherlock ignored her baleful stare and continued thinking aloud. "This one is your favorite, given its position atop the pile, and the wear and tear on the off-on dial." From the pocket of his suit jacket, he drew out what was indeed her favorite toy, a petite vibrator in translucent sky blue. The toy arched toward the tip and was flexible in material and design. It was made to either angle inside her to rub against her g-spot or to curve around her mound, letting her ride the vibrations against her clit.

Molly yelped, and grabbed at it. Sherlock spun around, avoiding her reach and contemplating the toy in his hand. "Salesman. For the Rendezvous Company, supplying upscale sex boutiques throughout Europe. A suitcase full of wares. After a dye job and a haircut, the disguise'll do nicely." He looked down to meet Molly's outraged eyes. "What? Not good?"

"The plan? No, that's…actually brilliant in a bizarre way. No one would suspect Sherlock Holmes of…God, what am I saying? What would you do with a case full of my…?" The surrealness of the conversation began to get to her and Molly groaned in frustration and exhaustion.

"You know what? Just take it. I won't be able to use the thing ever again without thinking about your hands all over it." She collapsed on her quilt, and threw an arm across her eyes. The absurd urge to laugh came over her, but she stifled it. It would only encourage his button-pushing further.

"That's an interesting way of putting it," Sherlock mused, his voice thoughtful. "You won't be able to use it without thinking of me."

"That's not what I meant."

"But it is what you said."

"_Go to bed, Sherlock."_

* * *

An hour later she was tossing and turning in bed, unable to stop thinking about Sherlock handling her toys. She wondered which ones of them he'd touched, and what they looked like held in his long fingers. Before she realized it, Molly's hands were roaming under her quilt and into her knickers while she fantasized about those sensitive musician's hands of his.

Molly swore and jumped of bed. She cocked an ear toward her door, and listened for noise in the living room.

Only silence could be heard be from the rest of her flat. Sherlock was rarely quiet; he tended to make noise even sitting on her couch, watching bad telly, clattering tea cups on saucers, or just talking to himself.

_He's probably asleep or gone searching for more cigarettes_, she thought with relief_. I'll make this fast._

Molly hurried to the box under her bed. Thirty seconds searching made her remember she'd never gotten her favorite toy back from Sherlock before kicking him out of her bedroom. She grabbed her second favorite, a slim purple toy, and climbed back under the quilt.

A flick of her wrist on the dial, and Molly was sighing into her pillow with her nightshirt hiked up around her waist. The stress of the day melted away as she rocked her hips against the vibrating tip. She moaned and arched higher, the blankets falling down to her knees. She sunk back into her Sherlock fantasy, imagining it was his cock inside her, his fingers tickling her clit and making her shake. She envisioned shoving him down between her thighs, and him begging to please her with his mouth to make up for his obnoxious behavior. In her fantasy, Molly was eager to forgive him as long as he kept wiggling his tongue just so.

Molly was so wrapped up in her fantasy that she didn't notice the door opening in her darkened room. She was reaching for her climax when she felt cool fingertips skimming over her thighs. She smelled Sherlock's shampoo and thought for a few mad seconds that she had conjured up the scent from memory. Then reality set in.

"Oh god, Sherlock, what are you doing?" Molly froze, squeezing her thighs together, clamping down on the toy. She panicked, reaching down to twist off the vibe and yank the quilt up over her.

"You called my name. Thought you might be in danger." She saw him shrug, and then felt the weight of his body sitting down on the edge of her bed. He added, "Meant to return this earlier."

Molly felt a smooth cylinder slipped into her grasp. "Uh thanks. Please get out."

"Disappointing. I thought you might be able to help with my disguise."

"Disguise?" she asked, curious in spite of the oddness. Strange situations were the norm, she'd learned, when living with Sherlock.

"I'm to be a salesman, but one can only learn so much from Google. Porn is helpful but hardly realistic. I need a demonstration. Show me."

"A demonstr- _really?"_

"Yes." His hand slid under her quilt and over her thighs. He traced figure-eights over her skin until she felt her legs parting instinctively. _"Really,_ Molly."

"Oh…" In the darkness, Molly felt her belly and leg muscles relax, while her heart beat faster. Sherlock's hand moved deeper between her thighs, stroking the tender skin just below her knickers' lace edging.

Everything was so much easier when she couldn't see his face properly, she thought. And if it was another dream, she didn't want to wake up.

Sherlock pushed back the covers past her feet and settled further onto the bed. He picked up the purple toy she'd been using and set it on her end table, trading it for the blue one in her hand.

"Interesting," he remarked, playing with the dial. The buzzing was immediately high-pitched, the toy jerking in his hands.

"Too high. Softer at first, lower setting." He turned the dial toward the left, and the buzzing was lower. "Yes like that."

Sherlock set the toy down. "From what I've read, it would be simpler with these out of the way." He slipped his fingers under her knickers, his hand sliding through her curls there.

Molly arched into his fingers, and nodded. "Some people like fabric between the um vibrator, and _oh,"_ she broke off as he slid a finger between her wet folds. "Between the vibe and their clit. Sensitive. But this, this is good for me." She pushed her knickers down over her hips, and Sherlock finished it for her, drawing them over her calves and tossing them onto the floor. She laid back down, and he climbed between her knees. A beam of light from the window shone on his face now, and Molly marveled at the angles of his face, and the intensity of his gaze on her.

Molly picked up the toy, and she felt a surge of boldness. "Let me show you."

Sherlock smiled faintly, his eyes inscrutable.

Molly turned the dial up to her preferred starting point, and shifted to get comfortable. She let her knees drop low and apart, giving Sherlock a clear view. He leaned in closer and nodded.

"Good. More."

She obliged him, rolling the vibrator's head over her labia, teasing herself into getting wetter. When she was good and primed, she dipped the vibe between her folds to graze over the hood of her clit. She moaned and flexed her thighs and belly muscles. Molly scrunched her eyes shut for a moment to find her center and her rhythm. She rocked and swayed her hips with the familiar patterns she pleasured herself with almost every night.

Nearing her orgasm, she forced herself to open her eyes.

Sherlock had leaned in further, and was only a few inches away from her sex.

Something took hold of Molly. She turned the toy away from herself and pushed it into his hands.

"You finish it. Did you watch?"

"Yes, I observed." Sherlock's baritone drawl was rough and lower than normal. "Do you always do it this way or do you vary your technique?"

"Vary, but this is the standby, what always works." She touched her clit, keeping herself near the peak.

"You called my name before. Don't bother denying it. Do you always think of me?" He lowered the vibrator until it hovered just over her clit again.

Despite the intimacy of their contact, Molly still felt abashed. Sharing bodies was much easier than owning her stupid infatuation with him.

"Not always. Movie stars, musicians, fit men I see on the tube." She nudged the toy down to her body, urging him on. "Please."

He rolled the vibrator over her clit again, circling it in exactly the patterns she's demonstrated.

"Oh that's good," Molly groaned. "Perfect, you're bloody perfect. God, Sherlock." She gripped her sheets and lifted her hips up to meet the toy.

"Is it better than sex with a partner? Certainly it's more efficient than instructing each new lover in your preferred techniques."

"It's different," she said, feeling desperate to come. She felt lightheaded with the pleasure rising. "I can't…oh god, Sherlock, just shut up and fuck me."

He rubbed the vibrating edge hard against her clit, and Molly rode the smooth head of it until her body began to shake. The shimmering sensation rippled up her spine and Molly pinched her nipples hard, pushing herself over the edge.

Molly came with a shriek, a thin wail that cut off abruptly. She collapsed onto the bed, her muscles shaking all over from the exertion. When she opened her eyes, Sherlock was still resting on his elbows between her legs, watching her unblinkingly. Between her legs, his face was cast in shadow again.

Molly burst into laughter. "Sorry if that was fast, not that interesting I suppose. I can't believe I just did that." Her head spinning from the rush of hormones, she smiled deliriously and covered her eyes with her hands. The embarrassment would come tomorrow, but for now, she wanted to revel in what had just happened.

"Do you have more quest-"

Sherlock's curly head turned and she felt a soft kiss pressed on the skin of her inner thigh.

Molly paused. Hesitantly, she reached down and stroked his hair. He kissed her skin again, and this time looked up. Molly waited, uncertain now where this was headed.

Sherlock hopped up onto his knees, set her vibrator on the end table with the other, and set his hands back down on either side of Molly. He knelt between her thighs and peered down at her.

"When you use a toy for insertion, does it feel the same as a penis?"

Doubts cast aside, Molly reached down and stroked the bulge in his trousers. "No. Close, but something warm and living and reactive...maybe it doesn't matter to some, but for me…no it's not the same." She unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them over his hips. Molly tugged on his boxer briefs, and he did the rest, kicking them down and off the bed. His shirt followed without discussion, and she pulled Sherlock down to the bed beside her. She rolled over and climbed on top of him.

Molly opened her end table drawer and grabbed one of the foil packets from under a pile of old birthday cards. Thankfully the condom hadn't expired in the long time since she'd brought anyone home.

Before she could lose her nerve, Molly slid the condom on his cock, and reached up to kiss Sherlock lightly on the mouth.

"I thought…I wanted to, okay?"

He nodded. "It's fine. I like kissing."

"Wait, really?" Molly settled back on top of him, caressing his chest. She reached between them and squeezed his cock. She felt the ache building again. She rolled her wetness over him, relishing how his entire body tensed from her touch.

"You didn't ask." Sherlock cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples until they pebbled. She tucked the tip of his cock into her entrance and swiveled her hips.

Sherlock half-smiled. "A tease. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Still…" He gripped her waist and dragged her down onto him. Molly gasped and spread her legs further, taking him inside with one deep thrust.

He surged into her, impatient from the beginning. His quick hands roamed over her torso, flicking her nipples and smirking when she yelped in surprise and moaned. Molly retaliated gleefully by letting his thick cock slip out of her only to take him back inside in a torturously slow maneuver that she repeated a dozen times. He swore and clenched his jaw in frustration, and finally, pleaded.

"Oh just get on with it, already," he demanded, his nails digging into her hips.

She giggled, and rode him hard. Molly arched back and ground her pelvis against him, using his body to rub her clit until she came again, milking his cock with the vibrations rolling through her. Sherlock groaned and came, his head falling back on her pillow.

Gasping and his curls a tangled mess, he managed to say, "It's not the same. Is it. This way. With someone."

"Not with you, anyway," Molly murmured happily, her face tucked into the crook of his neck while she caught her breath.

"Well," he said after a minute's rest, his voice much clearer. "You will think of my hands on your favorite toy from now on, won't you."

* * *

By the time Sherlock departed the following week, Molly had purchased a suitcase full of new sex toys for him to convert for his purposes. Her own toys were safely tucked under her bed. While buying the new vibrators for his use, she'd acquired a few new items of her own.

When Sherlock returned from France, he promised to help Molly test them out.


End file.
